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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678272">Not Together, Getting There</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherriesjubileee/pseuds/cherriesjubileee'>cherriesjubileee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Radio, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Clumsy Kim Mingyu, Conceal Don't Feel, DJ Chwe Hansol, Friends With Benefits, Ice Cream, Kid Fic, Librarian Joshua Hong, M/M, Morning After, Obnoxious Lee Chan, Professor Boo, Regular Caller Boo Seungkwan, Single Parent Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups, Snarky Yoon Jeonghan, Sulky Choi Seungcheol, Summer Camp, camp counselors, friends with benefits to lovers?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherriesjubileee/pseuds/cherriesjubileee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic drabble/ficlet dump space for thoughts, dreams, and wips that may or may not go anywhere.</p><p>1) your love (gyuhan)<br/>2) heavy rotation (verkwan)<br/>3) it's too cold to bite me (cheolchan)<br/>4) baby, my love, my butterflies (cheolsoo)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Chan | Dino, Kim Mingyu/Yoon Jeonghan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. your love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jeonghan rolls over after hearing a muffled yelp from the corner. His eyes are still bleary in the early morning sun, but he can just make out the bouncing outline of Kim Mingyu trying to hop back into his pants...and struggling. </p><p>“...need some help over there?”</p><p>He jumps a little more, “I didn’t know you were awake. I was trying to be quiet…”</p><p>Jeonghan chuckles, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Nice to catch a look at you when you leave anyway.” He tries to ignore both the rumbling in his stomach and the twinge in his heart that makes him want to ask the younger man to stay for breakfast. </p><p>Mingyu scoffs, “I can’t believe you’re trying a line that old out on me, hyung. And besides, it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.” He shrugs on his shirt before walking over to pick up his phone and his watch from the bedside table. “Room key is on the dresser, and I left my breakfast ticket for you too, in case you want to invite someone to join. Remember, check out’s at 11.”</p><p>“I know, I know. You don’t have to walk me through this every time. Besides, I reserved this place in the first place. I always do.” Jeonghan looks at him archly. “You really could do to pull your weight in this, you know.”</p><p>Mingyu walks over and sits down on the edge of the bed, his weight sinking into the soft sheets a bit, as he pulls on his shoes and leans down to tie them. </p><p>“I could, but then...what would that leave you to do...when I did all the work last night?” </p><p>Jeonghan slaps at his arm, rather violently, before collapsing back onto the sheets. His brown hair is the dictionary definition of bedhead, and Mingyu can’t help but reach out his hand to smooth it down just a bit. “Same time, different place, next week?”</p><p>“I’ll text you the location,” Jeonghan says, muted by the small mountain of pillows he’s turned his head into. </p><p>“Get some rest. I know you’ve got a busy day of pressers tomorrow.” After a small rub of the older man’s bare shoulder, Mingyu stands up and grabs his jacket from the door. Jeonghan sighs as he hears the mechanical whirr and click of the lock and rolls over to sleep for at least another half hour...or as long as it would take to get Kim Mingyu out of his head.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Actors!AU in which Gyuhan are "dating" their co-stars while doing press for their respective films but seeing each other on the DL in order to not violate contractual obligations. Inspired by the Semicolon band concept pictures that had me listening to "Your Love" by The Outfield 20 times in a row for some reason. Maybe this will turn into something longer at a point but *stares at mountain of overdue assignments* Hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. heavy rotation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the same thing every week.  45 minutes after Hansol signs on--“This is Chwe Hansol, broadcasting live on HLVN”--at 12:45am on the dot, the phone rings. Every week, it’s the same soft voice on the line. Requesting Wonder Girls, 4Minute, Sistar...never the same song repeated, and never mind the fact that Hansol’s show is dedicated to indie rock and shoegaze. But something about the way he gets a little transgressive thrill out of confusing his audience and knowing that one person out there might be in on the joke too, keeps him coming back on the air at 12:55 to announce this week’s request from “Professor Wonderful.” Sometimes he gives a lead-in to the song, awkwardly trying to flex the knowledge he’s osmosed from watching music shows nearly a decade ago. Last week was a brief explainer for SNSD’s “Let’s Talk About Love.” A quick Naver search gave the relevant details, and he blazed through about 30 seconds of intro before putting it on. He checks his smartphone, <em>12:44</em>am...any second now. The shrill jangle of the beige landline on his desk cuts the air. He picks it up.</p>
<p>“This is ‘Like Ocean Waves,’ what can I do for you, caller?”</p>
<p>“Hi, it’s Professor Wonderful. Can you play f(x) ‘Pinocchio’?” </p>
<p>His voice sounds a little off this week, nervous, but Hansol brushes it off as the phone anxiety everyone in their generation suffers.</p>
<p>“On an SM kick, huh?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess. Can you play it, though? Do you have it?”</p>
<p>“Sure thing, I’ll get to it right after our commercial break. Thanks for calling in,” Hansol drawls into the receiver, completing their weekly call-and-response. He moves to hang up when the voice breaks back in.</p>
<p>“Actually, I...I need you to know. ‘Gee’ wasn’t SNSD’s debut single, and it wasn’t their first album.”</p>
<p>“Oh, okay, I uh…”</p>
<p>“It was ‘Into the New World’ in 2007. ‘Gee’ wasn’t released until 2009. They debuted with a full album not a mini. ‘Gee’ was only the first mini-album. There was a repackage in between but…” </p>
<p>His words tumble out in a rush, and Hansol honestly feels like he’s been pulled into an undertow of K-Pop knowledge he never really asked for.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make a note.”</p>
<p>“It’s not that big of a deal or anything. I just don’t want your listeners getting the wrong idea. Ok, thanks. Bye.” </p>
<p>A click on the other line and then a dial tone. Hansol sits holding the receiver for a second longer before placing it back into its cradle. He thinks he understands the professor label now...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just think Vernon has a good voice for radio...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. it's too cold to bite me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written in a fever dream set to this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5382Kdtkw3CHhlLvlwATEz?si=a7DYI-hvTNW30iXGvKifFA</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Clang-a-lang-a-lang</em>
</p><p>Seungcheol threw down the canoe paddle he was carrying to the boathouse and ran to the canteen. The lunch rush was always chaotic--and, on a rare day where he didn’t have to chaperone the campers in his cabin, he wasn’t going to miss being at the head of the line for chicken tenders. Also, after last night’s counselor meeting, Seokmin had let it slip that they were getting in a rare shipment of sorbet--cherry, peach, lime--the fruit flavors that had been making Seungcheol’s mouth water throughout the sweltering summer. Unfortunately, the need to cater to 11-year-old palates had kept the freezer stocked with vanilla, chocolate and, ugh, <em>mint chocolate chip</em>. As he loped over to the steps, Seungcheol pushed his bangs out of his eyes and regretted not wearing his usual bandana. Probably only 12:05...still time before the bedlam really kicked off.</p><p>Seungcheol swung open the door, only to be met with a herd of tweens rushing around with overfull trays and frazzled twenty-somethings trying to keep them in some semblance of organization. He breathed out a sigh. Getting a decent lunch plate was probably already a lost cause. Seungcheol looked around. Soonyoung and Jihoon were waving from a table in the middle of the maelstrom, but, more importantly, the ice cream case was cold and inviting, glowing in the far corner. He ignored their calls--and the itchy bead of sweat running down his back--and made a beeline for the freezer. Arms raised above the current of kids jostling about, he made his way upstream. <em>One, two, three, four. </em>Seungcheol counted the number of people who opened and shut the door, proudly marching away with ice cream bars, popsicles, and yes, little cups of his coveted sorbet. Another drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face. </p><p>“<em>Eyes on the prize, Cheollie, eyes on the prize</em>,” He muttered to himself as he finally reached the freezer door and slid it open. </p><p>“<em>No, no no...I got here...early.</em>”</p><p>A few leftover otter pops, some Klondike bars, and a lonely creamsicle lay on a decimated shelf. Below, a wall of little cups of ice cream, waiting to be picked over by grimy pre-adolescent hands, and no sorbet in sight.</p><p>“Oh, was this the last one?” Seungcheol looked up in the direction of the voice. Lee Chan stood against the wall, eyebrow cocked and spoon hanging smarmily out his mouth. Seungcheol could have slapped him right then and there.</p><p>“Yeah...yeah looks like.” He tried to control the tightness in his voice as his eyes scanned over an endless field of vanilla and mint <em>fucking</em> chocolate chip. </p><p>Chan licked his lips, typically pink tongue stained cherry red, before dipping his spoon in again. </p><p>“Oh...that’s too bad. I could have sworn you told Seokmin mint choco was your favorite last night,” Chan airly replied. </p><p>Seungcheol had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying not to laugh. He tried to ignore the flame of irritation in his belly and the way that Chan’s tank top slid down his shoulder to reveal a late-July tanline. </p><p>“It’s fine...I’ll just...get some at the store when I go for a supply run tonight.”</p><p>“Mmm, bet you’ll need some help. Let me come along? I’ll even buy your ice cream. Mea culpa.”</p><p>Seungcheol looked the other boy up and down. Lee Chan always seemed like he had an ulterior motive. But even though a smile played at the corner of his rosy lips and sharp eyes threatened to turn up in laughter, there was something about his voice that seemed...earnest, for lack of a better word.</p><p>“Yeah, fine, sure. Meet me at the parking lot at 8. We’ll take the pickup.”</p><p>“See you then, Cheollie.” Chan tossed a smile his way before pitching himself off the wall, spoon still hanging annoyingly lax from his mouth.</p><p>“<em>First-year counselors are the fucking worst,</em>” Seungcheol thought, before letting the freezer door slam and walking back to where Soonyoung and Jihoon were giving him matching quizzical looks.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Cheolchan. Camp Counselors. Ice Cream. That's the fic. I've been thinking about this ever since Scoups got on Weverse just to critique Dino's taste in ice cream last month, and then Dino's glee at the prospect of getting Scoups to eat lotus root...just pushed me over the edge. Thanks for reading, and lemme know if you wanna see more in the comments :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. baby, my love, my butterflies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A tiny cheolsoo kidfic scene in honor of Kidult at TMA last night...<br/>Title from Baek Yerin's "I'll be your family!"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Seungcheol stumbled a little as a small hand dragged him through the parking lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Appa! Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He checked his phone. It was five minutes before storytime began, but he understood his daughter’s haste. Sunday afternoon storytime was always a must see--there were always new books to pick from--and it didn’t hurt that their favorite librarian was always on his rotation in the children’s section. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Shua! Mr. Shua!” His daughter yelled out as they stepped through the automatic doors, immediately dropping his hand as she ran toward the couches in the reading corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Slow down! Don’t shout!” Seungcheol ineffectually ran-walk behind her, a little out of breath by the time he caught up...only to look up and see his daughter and the aforementioned “Mr. Shua” carrying on quite happily about a new story about a fox family. Noticing Seungcheol bending over a bit to catch his breath, the other man smiled over his glasses. Seungcheol felt his chest get a little tighter and chanced an awkward wave back. Mr. Shua leaned over to whisper something into the small ear next to him and, with a little pat on her back, sent the little girl bounding back over to her father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Shua says he thinks you’ll really like the story this week, Appa. And that we should make sure to sit extra close so we can hear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? Did he now? Well, let’s go pick our seats.” They settled in on a lumpy red couch. Well, Seungcheol did; his daughter quickly plopped herself in his lap. And as Mr. Shua opened the first page of the book, Seungcheol settled his chin into his daughter’s hair and let the story wash over him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(AU where Scoups is a single dad from Seoul who gets sent to LA for work and Shua is a local librarian...)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Still learning the ropes of fic writing, so if you have thoughts, feedback, or feelings, drop 'em in the comments. Kudos also feed my soul. </p><p>twt: @TheS_standsfor<br/>tumblr: cherries-jubilee</p></blockquote></div></div>
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